Cracker Jacks
by AmandaEchelon
Summary: A year and day later, CM Punk is finally stepping up to the plate to make up for that dreaded promo that caused an enormous amount of speculation to ensue on just how close he and AJ Lee had become during their With the help of America's favorite pass time, can he right all those wrongs? Or will he strike out? AJPunk at the Chicago Cubs


_Come back to Chicago. -Phil_

* * *

"You're an idiot."

His shit-eating grin never faltered, even at his friends words while he continued to stare at his phone, heavily anticipating an instant reply. There wasn't a time he could recall feeling this giddy about anything. Multiple championships graced the halls in his home. Each one he fought for, sacrificing his body, sweat, and sometimes what felt like his soul.

But this was different; this must have been what it felt like. What it would always feel like. He couldn't imagine a more perfect plan even in his Nexus days.

He regarded his friend with a shrug and a quick wink, "Maybe."

"There's no maybe about it," the bulky man he'd come to regard as the brother he never had replied, "You're an idiot; plain and fucking simple."

"Please, a genius couldn't have come up with anything better than what I have in store."

Colt rolled his eyes.

His friend was truly lost in himself and the mischievous plan he'd concocted since the roster left their city a mere day before. Try as he might, he couldn't pull him back down to reality. Once Punk got on a cloud he refused to budge. Nobody would ruin this for him.

"Yeah, but you're not a genius," he snatched the phone from his best friend's hands causing the smirk to disappear and an almost angry cloud started brewing behind his green eyes, "You're an idiot. A genius would take the hint the first time. An idiot goes on a pursuit even after he's been rejected."

"She didn't reject me!" He snapped reaching for the phone to no avail as it was held out of his reach yet again above his head.

"Oh forgive me," he feigned apologetically, "I must have mistaken her words for 'take me I'm yours' when she told you keep your sorry ass at a distance."

Forget the cloud of anger, a hurricane of furry was building at the mere mention of that fateful day before Wrestlemania. The words were like a fire threatening to consume his body and his heart disappeared behind the flame crumpling to nothing but ashes of his former self.

"_I want you to walk away from me Phil, and this time…please…don't come back."_

A knife to the heart.

All because he didn't know what he wanted…what he needed? All because he'd been stupid and arrogant to not just to her feelings but his own. Seven months prior he delivered a promo that not only shocked himself, and the two in the ring, but the WWE Universe as well. They didn't know the truth behind those words. Or rather, the half-truth.

There was only one. One intimate moment. Sixty seconds of pure bliss then…it was over.

The lies floated off his tongue before he could stop them. His lack of filter would surely be his downfall someday but he could only pretend to pray that tomorrow was not the day.

Colt's arm went limp at his side, the phone still clutched in his hand. Upsetting his best friend was not the way to go about this but he couldn't forget the promise he made. The promise to help him forget, move on, be happy, even if it wasn't with the person his best friend…brother, wanted most the world.

"I've got to make it right," he spoke somberly, the tone making him almost unrecognizable to the man who knew him better than he knew himself. "A year ago I screwed it all to hell, and for nearly six months I've kept pushing myself into this pit out of respect for her wishes. But I can't do that anymore…and I'm willing to crawl out of that pit and take a chance if she'll give it to me. That's all I need Scott. One chance…one chance and if…if what she really wants is to forget everything and leave it in the past, me included, then I'll do it. You can't say it isn't worth a shot."

He'd never be one to say that Punk couldn't project a heart-wrenching promo like that of John Cena.

He was even better.

"Pffft," he scoffed, "you'd drag her into that pit with you. Whatever deity above knows you already have. Fifty/fifty shot. Hit or miss. I'm surprised you're even allowed in her good graces after all that and the drama you put her through at Mania'. You truly are one sly motherfucker, but if you can make this happen…then I will bow down to you like a King."

The Siamese grins returned to their faces as he placed the phone back in Punk's hand and as though their ears were burning it started to light up and vibrate instantly. Punk turned his back and walked off, leaving Colt to scratch the back of his head. His best friend's features were going to be stuck in a permanent Joker-type face after this.

He chuckled and mumbled quietly to himself, a smile of his own never leaving his features, "Fuck love."

* * *

"_What are you trying to pull here, Phil?"_

"Isn't it obvious," the tired tone of her voice wouldn't even give him pause to reconsider his plan, "I'm trying to educate my favorite student on the beauty of the Second City."

He ignored the small groan that escaped her before her reply came almost sadly, _"Phil…we've talked about this-"_

"No, April," he interrupted, "You've talked about it. I've handled everything would grace like I don't even know how. You made all the decisions and I'll be damned if I lose my turn."

Silence fell and for a second Punk had to wonder if she'd hung up and called it quit for good, but hearing a sigh escape her he realized hope was not lost to him quite yet.

"I just want you to see what's here," he started again, much more serious then the flirtatious tone she'd always known, "What's always been here. You remember…you remember when you took me to that hillside in New Jersey…"

On the other end he heard a small laugh escape. That's it. Open up just a little more crazy chick.

"_You thought I was going to push you down into the pit of discarded trash at the bottom," _he was sure she was smiling. Recalling the memory.

It'd been a dreary and windy week so far in New Jersey for the grandest stage of them all, but once she touched down into her childhood home things seemed to clear up naturally. Almost as if it had been waiting for her return.

"I probably belong there anyway with all that happened awhile back," a pause, not for effect, but for remembrance, she didn't need reminding, "and I swore to you after the cameras were off that I would make it up to you. Somehow, some way."

"_Phil-"_

"So let me," he didn't want to interrupt her, he'd give anything to hear her talk all night long, but for now he had to stay a course, "Let me make it up to you, show you that this time there's no foolin'. I'm all in sweetheart. You just have to meet me half way."

Again there was silence.

Followed shortly by a dial tone and the Best in the World hung his head. Fifty/fifty. Hit or miss.

Colt had been right for once. He took the shot but couldn't measure up to the hype he'd been living in and as he made his way back to his best friend down the hall to assure him that he could gloat about being right til kingdom come the phone stirred in his hand. A text message lighting up the screen. A simple sentence housed so many possibilities.

_The flight arrives at 10AM._

* * *

Eyes wide with horror, April Jeanette Mendez sat frozen in the passenger seat of a black SUV while its driven exited the vehicle. She remained motionless. She probably wasn't even breathing. The only sound was her heartbeat pumping away through her ears as it picked up speed and her fingernails dug into the sides of her seat.

Surely he wasn't serious.

Banners of bears and stripes circled the last federal league baseball field left in America.

Wrigley Field.

Or as AJ would have described it…hell.

It took him about a minute to realize he was alone approaching what could be considered his favorite place in all of Chicago. He looked over his shoulder seeing that she was still the car, a thick mask of horror clearly etched on her face.

Fans were beginning to file in and if they didn't go soon he'd be swarmed with people thrusting property in his face. He hugged the hooddie tighter around his face, briskly walking to her side of the care. She remained seated, vacant expression as he peered at her through the window. She wasn't budging an inch at this rate.

So he opened the door, and instantly she back-handed him in the chest.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Her reaction made him smile. Oh yeah, this would go swimmingly.

"Maybe," he winked and reached over to unbuckle her seat-belt. He stopped the action as she laid her hand over his before he could unclasp it, effectively cutting off the action, and making him pause with his body leaning over hers in the passenger seat.

"Surely, you cannot be serious."

"As serious as I am the best in the world."

This time he winked and took the opportunity of surprise when her eyes widened. Swiftly; he reached to remove the buckle from it's latch and pull it across her body letting it fall off the side of the seat before coming back to connect his emerald orbs to her chocolate brown ones. The unmistakable look of fear crossed her features bringing confusion to his own face while they stared at one another and suddenly he had to wonder if this had been a bad decision after all.

"What is it?" He asked; voice filled with concern.

She ducked her head and turned it away from him. Choosing instead to focus on the asphalt below. She couldn't look at him as she admitted her reservation about going into this specific location.

"This isn't my place," she whispered; missing the confusion returning to his face at her admitted quarrel within herself, "I've told you before haven't I? That this was never my place. That I could never dare overstep those boundaries by sharing in something you shared with her."

Feeling his calloused palm caress her cheek, those fingers splayed across her tan skin, smooth like silk and undeterred. It was only then that she brought her eyes back to his and saw nothing but raw determination. Same old CM Punk.

"I told you," he spoke; choosing to ignore the whimper of remembrance that escaped her. She was looking back to that chilling confession he'd made the Raw after Wrestlemania. The same one he would make again and hope for a better outcome then her telling him it didn't matter in the least and to walk away from what he _thought_ it was he wanted at the time, "It was an amicable split. She knew that there was something there before either you or I did. Even gave me props for finally having the balls to admit there was."

She sniffled slightly, her only reply other than releasing a heavy breath before he continued; bringing his other hand up to cup her face fully in his hands. Like holding the most precious gift in the world.

"The only regret I'll ever have is that 366 days ago I said a lot of things I shouldn't have. I was mad...confused," now it was his turn to look away, he still held her face carefully in his hands and released his own heavy breath before returning to meet her eyes, "Something so private, so personal...and I shared it with a bunch of people who didn't matter. But all of that's past and I'm trying to make up for that now, by sharing something so personal, something that I love with the only person whose mattered to me since the first moment I met you."

Her hands covered his at those words remembering the terrible promo that had her reduced to tears when she got to the backstage area and sunk to her knees behind a crate so no one would be the wiser. Only for him to find her moments later and swear he'd make it up to her. A year and a day later he was just now going to make good on that promise?

"So what do you say Cracker Jack?" His voice drawing her out of the trip down memory lane, "Come watch some baseball with me."

He stood back, releasing her and holding out his hand while she stared blankly at it from the seat in his car.

The ball was out of his glove now and silently he hoped...that maybe she would catch it, that she would want to.

Red Smith had once said that, 'Ninety feet between the bases is the nearest thing to perfection that man has yet achieved.'

While that may be true, Red Smith never knew the perfection of having AJ Mendez accept his hand, effectively helping her from the vehicle and walking into Wrigley Field still holding it tightly.


End file.
